Coldhearted
by Quite Unrequited
Summary: When reclusive vampire, cold heart Ed, sets his sights on heart-of-gold Bella, will she live long enough to break through his icy defenses? Or, will this "vegetarian" break his family's code of conduct for a taste of her blood. The sweetest blood he'd smelled in ninety-five years… AU, OOC, EPOV
1. Preface

**Preface**

"Beauty of a Beast"

He is a stunning beauty of a beast, a celestial oasis to parched, arid eyes.

To look upon his immortal face, is to drink from a well of unspoken lies.

Dark are the icy depths of him, he harbors no friendly shore but a ruthless whim.

Cruelty is his chosen specialty; the silken cup of his voice holds venomous words to the brim.

He knows nothing of love and remembers little of life he so long ago departed.

Hardened, frozen skin, hatred of his kin, makes him as frigid outside as he is within.

Inner voices eat at his sanity, left with no humanity, he's incurably **coldhearted**.


	2. Chapter 1

****No copyright infringement intended. I do this not for compensation, but merely for the merriment of myself and my fellow twilighters. I may own a ferocious Edward appetite, but Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight!** **

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**1.**

A sanctuary – by definition – is any place of refuge or asylum.

There are few such places in this world. And even fewer who discover them.

Superheroes of every land and legend are notorious for having them...

The Justice League of America, for instance, has their lunar lair known as The Watchtower.

The X-Men have Professor Xavier's mansion; that doubles as a gated school for the "gifted."

The ThunderCats have the enormous electronic, pantheras structure of Cat's Lair.

Superman has his frozen Fortress of Solitude in the arctic.

And Batman has his underground Batcave, located beneath his residence on the outskirts of Gotham City.

Yes, let us not forget _the Caped Crusader_; _the Dark Knight _and his subterranean abode. We are similar in a few ways, he and I, the largest of which being we are both creatures of the night. And while I'd hardly classify myself as a Superhero, taking refuge in a cave is, oddly enough, something I can relate to.

My personal sanctuary is a cave located behind Sol Duc Falls in Forks, Washington. I took up residence here 10 years ago, with only the sounds of the falls and my grand piano for company. Much preferred to the sounds of the inane and constant dribble that is the innermost thoughts of other sentient beings.

This cave serves as the perfect refuge for a creature, who, can neither sleep, nor otherwise escape his loathsome ability to read minds. My family, and all the rest of this wretched civilization, lives a few miles away on the other side of the Sol Duc River. Just out of range of my extra hearing. Just how I happen to like it.

Not that the distance really matters; so long as I remain concealed here. There is something about this cave that inhibits my ability at long range. And so, if not for the purpose of hunting, I seldom leave. I likewise seldom have to suffer another living soul.

Seldom – not never.

Not like now, as I detect a familiar mental voice near the cave's proximity. Carlisle. My "father" for all intents and purposes.

_Ah, how I've missed how beautifully he plays. I wonder if he can hear me._ He thinks to himself, sighing as he is overcome with sentimentality and nostalgia.

"Of course I can hear you. What do you want?" I bark, already annoyed by his presence as I divert the smallest fraction of my attention away from my playing to deal with him.

_ We're all on our way to engage in some big game hunting, and thought you might like to join us._ He proposes hopefully, undeterred by my customary disregard for him and lack of basic hospitality.

"No you didn't." I reply darkly, refusing to stomach his sickeningly sweet and perverse pleasantries. "And anyway, I've just come from hunting."

_ Please…we haven't seen you in so long. Please come._ He implores desperately, as he takes several steps in my direction.

"I see. I was much too subtle before. Let me make it clearer for you: the answer is _no_." I reply harshly, willing him to take that as my definitive answer and depart.

_ We miss you, son. Do you not miss your family…by even the smallest margin?_ He inquires earnestly, failing – once again – to understand my preference for solitude.

"How can I when you never leave me? From the moment I venture to your repugnant side of the river, your voices bombard my head. Whether I wish them to or not." I inform him for literally the millionth time. If only he would employ that annoying penchant for persistence with other, mutually beneficial pursuits; like, say, volunteer as the first vampiric cannonball, or, better still, partake of the combustible art of fire breathing.

_ Will you never come home, then?_ He queries dejectedly.

"I am home." I scoff, as my diminishing patience dwindles even further. What does he think I've been doing these ten years, excavation? Rehearsing for _music camp_? Delusional.

_ This is no home, Edward. Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper, Alice, Esme and I…__**we**__ are your home. What can we do?_ He implores pathetically.

"Can you become mental mutes, Carlisle? Can you stop the incessant chatter of your insipid inner thoughts?" I ask with as much malice as I can manage; daring him to give voice to any valid contradiction.

_ Of course you know we can't. But, we all want you to come home so – _

"What? So I can be at your throats? Accusing you all merely for the thoughts you're thinking? Is that what you want? Just leave me be, Carlisle. All of you." I sneer dismissively.

_ Edward, please, just –_

"I. said. **LEAVE!**" I bellow; the sound loud and offensive to my own ears as it thunders around us, causing me to strike a disjointed key. Perfect.

_ I didn't save your life to watch you waste away like this._ He sighs, his inner voice barely a whisper in his head.

"Is that what you think you did? I don't recall asking you to…_save me_, as you say. But, I do recall _very clearly_ asking you to leave. Now get out. Before I throw you out." I grind out between my clenched teeth.

_ I refuse to believe that a son of mine would resort to unprovoked physical violence._ He asserts with renewed boldness, his confidence in my long dead humanity fueling my fury.

"Carlisle, so help me, I will tear you _limb_ from pacifistic _limb._" I promise, keeping my voice even with deceptively lethal serenity. I've reached a section of the piece I particularly enjoy and won't risk ruining it with another outburst. Miraculously, he hears my murderous intent that underscores my peaceable tone.

Defeated, he turns and exits the cave. For once, his thoughts are unreadable, as an overwhelming sadness settles like a thick fog inside him. "Good riddance," I huff to myself as I resume my piano concerto in peace. "Maybe this time he won't come back."

As the sounds of Debussy's Prelude rise and resound on the natural acoustics of the cave walls, a faint, familiar fragrance permeates the darkness of my tranquil abode. Familiar only because it is decidedly human – but that is where the similarities end.

My fingers halt instantly without my permission as my throat is consumed by fire; they hover over the keys as the mouthwatering scent grows progressively stronger. I feel a growl building in my chest, fanning the flames as it rips its way upward.

An erratic heartbeat reaches my ears from beyond the falling water, and I growl continuously in warning, the sound reverberating threateningly throughout the nearly enclosed cavern.

Incredulously, the beating only gets louder, indicating the individual is moving steadily closer and not further away as I intended. A short time later I hear a small splash and for a moment the fragrance weakens and all is quiet.

Looking at the plunge pool intently, I see a figure gliding smoothly just beneath the surface. I am frozen with shock as I watch her emerge and climb out of the pool, with the aid of a cluster of rocks that form several steps alongside the wall.

Before she is even fully erect I am on my feet and at her throat. With my fingers clenched tightly around her neck, I lift her several feet off the ground, bringing her to my height. She gasps and sputters as she dangles helplessly between my body and the wall. I chuckle darkly, too quietly for her inferior ears, as I realize she is quite literally caught between a rock and a hard place. She shudders; from fear or from cold I cannot tell.

She blinks several times as her eyes adjust to the dim daylight filtering in from the mouth of the cave. The perfume coming off her skin, the essence of the blood coursing just below the thin membrane, is making me insane. Venom fills my mouth and I swallow the bitter cordial as I lean in closer to her wriggling frame.

Beginning at her chin, I drag my lips across her jaw, tasting the invigorating fragrance as it lifts from her flesh, rolls over my open mouth and onto my tongue.

Exquisite.

She starts thrashing wildly in what I assume to be a futile attempt to escape my iron grip. The chaotic movements cause her scent to crash against me repeatedly, like waves breaking against the rocks of the sea. Inadvertently she is heightening my discomfort, as excruciating heat cascades down my throat like molten lava. I let my mouth glide across her ear and linger there as I speak in a rough whisper.

"I haven't decided yet whether I'm going to kill you. So it would be in your best interest not to annoy me further."

"Further?" She manages to choke out through her constricted vocal chords.

"Your mere presence here is an egregious annoyance." I inform her slowly, sharply.

"Funny, you don't look like the state of Washington to me." She whispers hoarsely.

"What's that?" I can't help but inquire; almost certain she is daring to be insolent, though she is hardly in any position to be.

"You're acting like you own the place…but, you don't. It belongs to the State, and, subsequently, the people of Washington. Does the State of Washington know you're here?"

"Does anyone know _you're_ here?" I inquire threateningly as I tighten my grip on her throat. "I'd say that's the more pressing question at the present. Wouldn't you?"

Her silence tells me what I wish to know. I move my lips marginally and smile broadly against her throbbing external jugular vein. The synchronized beating of her heart is amplified by the otherwise surrounding silence.

_Silence_.

Surprised and suspicious of her silent mind – her otherness – I immediately go on the offensive. What manner of creature is she and what other abilities does she possess that may pose as a threat to me?

I peel myself away from her neck and look her in the eyes. "What are you?"

"You mean other than oxygen deprived?" She quips, then taking in my unamused expression continues quickly. "I realize visibility is pretty low in this black hole, but have you honestly been here so long that you don't know a female voice when you hear one?"

"Wrong. answer. witch. Who sent you?" I snarl, completely cutting off her air supply as I lift her above my head against the cave wall. If she is in league with an enemy coven or clan, snapping her neck, after I drain her dry, ought to send them a poignant message. Realizing I've rendered her quite unable to speak without her breath, I loosen my hold minutely.

"No one." She gasps.

"Then what are you doing here?" I whisper severely.

"Bear." She coughs.

"A bear?" I repeat skeptically, loosening my grip further to allow her more air.

"I was looking for the lost bear from the zoo." She explains, as though it were the most plausible reason in the world.

"And you thought you'd find it in here?" I ask doubtfully.

"Well, no. I was looking for the bear, but then I heard this piano. Of course, a piano in the forest is pretty peculiar, so I stopped looking for the bear and followed the sound of the piano instead. As I got closer to the falls, that's when I heard the growling inside the cave."

"So you just decided you'd come in here and capture this growling bear all on your own?" I query suspiciously, my hand aching under the restraint I'm employing not to choke the life out of her.

"I assumed it was only growling because it was frightened, and he could have really hurt you in his scared state. Baby bears –"

"Stop. You're saying you entered a dark cave, with a presumably frightened animal inside, in order to rescue _me_ from being mauled by a _baby_ bear?"

"Exactly – and look at the thanks I get!" She whisper-yells with a ferociousness that reminds me of a kitten who is comically under the misapprehension of being a tiger.

"That's incredibly brave behavior for someone so frail and small." I assess aloud, somewhat impressed by the girl's heroism.

"Thanks." She mutters sarcastically.

"And incredibly stupid." I spit violently, suddenly annoyed by her lack of proper fear in the face of danger: namely, me.

"You're welcome." She mumbles acerbically as she rolls her eyes.

"Do you see any bears in here, girl?" I ask acidly; my voice cold and hard as I let her know her admittedly heroic, yet pathetically meager services were unnecessary.

"Well, no…" She confesses weakly, as a delicious blush blooms across her cheeks. I wince as the sudden pooling of blood incites the existing flames to burn impossibly hotter.

"And if that had been a bear you heard – I promise you it was for damn sure a full size bear and not some sniveling infant." I fume brusquely against the pain in my throat.

"Okay…?" She trails off, obviously bewildered.

I lower her slowly two feet from the ground, but, before I release her I growl loudly in her face. She cowers immediately as the sound shakes the cave walls.

"I'm letting you go. Do _not_ return." I hiss, relinquishing my hold and allowing her to fall forcefully the remaining distance to the ground. She lies in a heap at my feet for a few seconds, before jumping up and sprinting toward the pool. She doesn't slow her pace as she reaches the edge, but, pushing off with her feet, hurls herself headlong into the water.

As she exits the cave, taking her maddening scent with her, I listen to the hammering of her heart until she crosses the river, where it abruptly fades from my hearing.

If only it and her alluring aroma would likewise vanish from my memory.


	3. Chapter 2

****No copyright infringement intended. I do this not for compensation, but merely for the merriment of myself and my fellow twilighters. I may own a ferocious Edward appetite, but Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight!** **

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**2.**

An addict – by definition – is a person who is addicted to an activity, habit, or substance.

In the three weeks since _she_ trespassed on my sanctuary and contaminated the peace herein, with something which can only be described as sweet torture, I've become increasingly aware of a none too subtle deviation from my former routine.

Shortly after her departure, I began engaging in the _activity_ of inhaling her essence still clinging to the cave wall and floor; initially only stopping to indulge in a quick whiff in passing upon my entering and exiting.

However, I am now doing so continuously. To the point where I have developed a _habit _of pressing my nose greedily into the evaporating trail, following it down onto my knees, slithering thereof onto my belly and remaining there; sniffing the ground like a regular bloodhound.

And doing all of this while craving the _substance_ of her blood.

This is the condition in which I find myself at present. Am I any less of an addict because I'm not a person – not human? Am I automatically exempt from this debased category, based on a mere technicality?

I think not.

Incrementally, the long practiced control I have over my bloodlust is slipping away in massive chunks – like ice breaking away from the edge of a glacier. I did not know that such a scent as hers could exist. For had I known; I would have gone in search of it long ago.

I'd have combed the earth for this rare blood that boasts of botanical notes so sweet, I wouldn't think twice about consuming it even as it turns my insides to saccharine. It is easily the sweetest blood I've smelled in ninety-five years. And, remarkably, it isn't half a world away…but right here in the vicinity of Forks.

How convenient.

How, indeed; as if I would so foolishly put an end to the life containing that sweet nectar and silent mind. If I did, I'm certain the ambrosial combination would not be easily – if ever – found again. To say nothing of how it would be like throwing kindling on my deep, flaming desire to drink from humans; the blood of which being infinitely superior to all others, but made bitter by my loathsome ability. I'm likely the only vampire in existence with a "rebirth defect." The effect may very well be purely psychological. But, psychological or otherwise it is a burden that I cannot bear.

I care nothing for their suffering in and of itself, only the wretched, painful effect it has on me. My prey's terrified thoughts and emotions at the time of their death, ruins the flavor of their blood. I can literally hear each mental process and feeling as it poisons every crimson drop. Furthermore, it not only loses its effectiveness in extinguishing the flames, but contrarily adds fuel to the fire. And, as it's impossible to relax someone who's dying an excruciating and unfathomable death, animal blood is the natural, nonhazardous alternative.

I've tried everything to get around this nuisance my extra hearing presents. Killing them first isn't a viable option, as without the heart to pump the blood through the veins, it cools rather quickly. Thickening to such a disgusting degree, I wouldn't consume that gruesome coagulated cocktail even if I could manage to suck it out.

Any attempt at rendering them unconscious similar wise results in failure. On some level they are still aware of the danger, leaving the blood no less spoiled. Even utilizing my gift of compulsion has proven unsuccessful, as it has absolutely no bearing on emotions. They would be completely compliant, but totally traumatized.

Perturbed and unprecedentedly parched over these ruminations of the shortcomings of my past, I rise from the cave floor in search of a mountain lion to slake my thirst. With my heel against the rear wall like a world class sprinter, I push off and ghost across the pool, through the falls and onto a large rock on the other side.

I move so quickly that the flowing curtain of moisture has no time to saturate myself or my clothing. As always, I'm not even damp. Sniffing the wind, I leap from the rock and over the river. Landing directly on the forest floor, I hit the ground running in pursuit of the two large beasts I seek.

As I draw near to my prey, they suddenly turn about and lunge at me in a counter offensive attack. Prepared for this maneuver, having detected the shift in the scrolling marquee that is their very prominent instincts, I secure them both in an iron headlock as they thrash about angrily.

I sink my teeth into the throat of the first, draining her quickly before releasing her exsanguinated body to the earth. I likewise make quick work of her sister, disposing of their carcasses beneath the expansive leaves of a giant fern.

Feeling full but hardly satisfied, I turn and streak through the forest. As I run, I intercept what is by now a well known scent. Without thinking I immediately alter my course, burning as I bolt through the darkness. Reeling as I revel in the indescribable bouquet.

I halt just inside the tree line where the forest ends abruptly, bordering a white house with a red behemoth of a truck sitting in the drive. Seeing an open window on the second story, I flash across the short distance and into the room within the blink of an eye.

The scent is everywhere and I stagger backwards under the crushing weight of it. Each breath is like breathing straight fire as it quickens the flames in my throat. Lowering myself into the built-in window seat, I infuse my lungs with large pulls of the cool night air.

The way her aroma permeates every surface, without a trace of varying scents in the immediate area, or wafting in from beneath her closed bedroom door, tells me she lives alone. That, and the fact that there is a distinct absence of voices. How unusual that she should choose to live apart from the rest of the populace; and unbeknownst to her, share the secluded environs of a vampire.

When once I've regained my equilibrium, I turn my head slowly to look upon the source of all this suffering. She lays sleeping soundly in an unimpressive bed; her wet hair strewn about her like brown seaweed floating on the water's surface.

I am in a state of gradually declining torment and the longer I sit, the easier it becomes to breathe. What was once blistering heat simmers down to a bearable burn; a slow, persistent warmth that I imagine is the equivalent of the sensation left by hundred-year-old brandy, the rarest, finest cognac.

She starts speaking in her sleep somewhere around midnight, prattling on about our encounter in the cave. Mostly reciting the contents of our conversation verbatim…well, her side in any case. I'm beginning to lose interest in her repetition when she begins uttering things she did not say on that day.

"He's so talented, so terrifying in his temperament, his beauty…and so, so lonely." She states sadly, and so clearly that, were it not for the decreased beating of her heart, I'd swear she was conscious.

Her empathy is infuriating. I very nearly _killed_ her and she has the audacity to presume that I am lonesome? I hardly think the first instinct of someone suffering from loneliness, is to crush the windpipe of unexpected company. I observe in soundless outrage as her lips begin to quiver. Sensing that she is about to continue I decide to intervene.

"Silence." I hiss menacingly into the semi-darkness. Her mouth stills immediately, relaxing into a limp line in the pale moonlight. I seldom use my gift of compulsion, as I prefer to threaten others into submission, but, it somehow seems fitting under the circumstances.

She shifts slightly beneath the sheets, releasing a particularly potent wave of her fragrance into the air. I close my eyes and inhale deeply. When I open them again I am standing at the head of her bed, hovering over her sleeping form.

Reaching out with one hand I take hold of the thin material covering her body; noticing the softness of the cotton as it glides between my fingertips.

"Sleep deeply." I command as I pull the sheet away and discard it at the end of the bed.

She does not stir, but the motion unleashes more of her unique perfume and I shudder as it billows in invisible clouds around me. I remove her clothing and quickly position myself on top of her, straddling her thighs before burying my nose in her now dry hair.

I am most definitely an addict – and she is _exactly_ my brand of heroin.

Moving beyond her hairline, I drag my nose across her fragrant flesh, breathing her in hungrily from the top of her head to the bottom of her feet. I make this sweet circuit again and again until the faintest appearing of dawn begins to lighten the room.

Trembling with the effort it took in resisting the wine all night; I remove myself from her bed and replace the sheet. I smile fiendishly at the outline of her still naked body, having purposely decided to leave her that way. No doubt she'll find it extremely disconcerting to wake in such a state. I only wish I could stick around to witness the look on her face.

That should teach her not to have sympathy for creatures she knows nothing of. Creatures she ought instead to have an unhealthy fear of. I move to turn away when an ingenious epiphany hits me:

No – it won't. But, I know what will.

I bend forward; touch my lips to her ear and whisper, "Go back to the falls."

I straighten and turn to leave again, when an insistent concern that her silent mind might somehow interfere with my bidding, makes itself known.

"Repeat." I toss over my shoulder as I make strides toward the open window.

"Go back to the falls." She breathes in a flat, sleep laden voice. The _Hello Kitty_ alarm clock on her bedside table chooses this moment to produce a series of meows that grow steadily louder. It is a hideous sound that would wake the dead…but, fortunately, not someone still under my influence.

I exit soundlessly out of her window and streak into the neighboring tree line. I pause under the thick canopy and whisper, "Awaken."

Beneath the sounds of her horrid alarm, I detect the rustling of sheets and a sharp, panicky intake of breath. The alarm is shortly silenced but quickly replaced by shrill screams that pierce the early morning peace. Laughing darkly, I make my departure, delighting as her distressed cries ring in my enhanced ears for miles.

As I near the cave I hear a large buck and veer slightly off course to intercept it. I drain and discard it within minutes, concealing the body in a hole which I swiftly recover with earth. I enter my home to find it, not surprisingly, in the exact condition in which I left it. Bypassing the area from whence her scent once enticed me, I sit at my piano for the first time in three weeks and play. As the ensuing melodies rise and swell around me, I wait.

I'm not halfway through Suite Bergamasque No. 3 when delectable, aromatic air begins to fill the cavern. I continue playing as her heartbeat gets closer until I see her head emerge from the water. Not waiting for her to exit on her own strength, I snatch her directly from the pool and press her against the closest wall.

"I thought I told you _not_ to return." I whisper icily next to her ear, loosening my grip on her throat to permit her response. She opens and closes her mouth several times, but when no reply comes I continue.

"I gave you your life last time. This time I own it – you'll have to earn it back."

She gulps and I feel the soft undulations of her throat against my palm. "It seems I have no choice." She reasons in a small voice, obviously confused as to why she didn't heed my warning.

"No, you don't." I confirm callously as I pull back and glare into her wide, frightened eyes. "Until I say otherwise…you're _mine_."


	4. Chapter 3

****No copyright infringement intended. I do this not for compensation, but merely for the merriment of myself and my fellow twilighters. I may own a ferocious Edward appetite, but Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight!** **

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**3.**

A sadist – by definition – is a person who has the condition of sadism, in which one receives sexual gratification from causing pain and degradation to another.

As I possess no sexual need or desire to speak of, it is safe to assume that it is the second definition which applies to me: a person who enjoys being cruel.

I watch her keenly as I suspend her against the cave wall; taking inventory of my meticulous observations…

She trembles with my nearness. So I make it a point to be as near to her as possible; luxuriating in the deep shudders that sweep through her, pushing her even closer against me as I pin her body down with mine.

She refuses to look me in the eye. So I press my forehead to hers so that _I_ am all that she sees. My nose so close it molests the tip of her nose. My lips so close they brush hers with every sinister twist of my mouth. With a whimper she lowers her lids, like a delicate curtain separating her from the _bête noire_ standing before her.

I'll have none of it.

"Look. at. me." I breathe slowly and sternly against her lips, increasing the chokehold I have her secured in. She obeys me at once and I smile wickedly knowing it is very much against her will. Provoked by the fear in her eyes, I grind my pelvis into her…once…twice…and watch with amusement as tears swell and cascade down her face.

"P-Please." She cries, all hoarse and high pitched from the pressure of my hand on her larynx.

"Please, _what?_" I inquire heinously, deliberately prolonging her terror when I know very well what she's asking of me. I remove all pressure from her neck – _this_ I want to hear.

"Please, don't. I'm a virgin." She begs brokenly, her fear coming through clear and unhindered in my perfect ears. I have no real desire for her in that way, but when I think of the damage it would do…I am beyond tempted.

I hear the act itself is extremely pleasurable; add in her pain and it's a double win for me. Yes, a most tempting prospect is the thought of her writhing and screaming beneath me in agony. I can feel my long dead body responding to the mere notion alone.

My newly awakened masculinity presses itself threateningly against her causing her breathing and heart rate to accelerate. The smell of her blood is overpowering and the need to claim her with my mouth is great. Realizing what is happening I release her immediately, sending her harshly to the cave floor.

If I indulge in this ultimate of dark fantasies – I'll kill her. I know I will; and she is far too valuable to me. For this reason, and this reason alone, I will resist. But, _she_ need not know that. I stare down at her, allowing my twin thirsts to ruin her virtue and ravage her blood to dominate my expression. She cringes deeply into the immovable cave wall.

"You. are. _mine_. I will do with you what I will." I remind her hotly, fuming in the face of my one limitation. In truth, I cannot do to her all that I will and it burns me even as my throat burns for her. She now cries in earnest at my comfortless words; the sound echoing softly in the space between us. She watches me as she weeps, for I have yet to tell her to stop.

Ordinarily, I would bask in such complete misery. But, there is work to be done.

"Put away your tears." I compel her with the deepest apathy. "They're of no use to you here – and there is much to be done." She wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands; they remain red and somewhat puffy but are rendered completely dry by the time she is finished.

"So, what is it you need me to do – dust your piano?" She queries in a hushed tone, squirming deliciously under the weight of my searing gaze.

"First, I don't _need_ you for anything. And, second…you're _never_ to touch my piano." I turn my back to her swiftly and walk away. "Come." I call without breaking my stride, listening as she rises straight away from the ground and falls in line behind me.

When we reach the edge of the pool I stop and crouch slightly. "Get on." I instruct stoically, staying perfectly still as she climbs onto my back and settles herself thereon. Her arms are looped loosely around me and I can feel her quivering lips at the base of my neck. Her thighs grip snugly just above my hips and her dress clings fast to the skin located there.

It is then that I realize she is still soaking wet from her earlier entry through the pool. If memory serves me (and my flawless, vampiric memory always does), humans are highly susceptible to sickness; prolonged exposure to cold being just one of many illness inducing catalysts.

I proceed to peel the wet fabric up her leg, revealing more of her flesh, relishing in the shaky gasp that follows. I run my fingers over the softness of her skin, detecting easily the brittle bones situated just beneath. So frail. So fragile. Like _silk_ stretched over _glass_.

Not wanting my human to catch her death as a result of my neglect, especially after exerting well beyond a herculean effort to keep her alive, I decide I'd better get her dry before our real work begins.

"Do _not_ let go." I grind out fiercely, before leaping the length of the water below us and breeching the falls a fraction of a second later. Pausing briefly on the rock just outside, I assess us both. Even with the lack of momentum: I am as dry as ever and she is no wetter. I can hardly say I'm _good_, but…

Damn, I'm proficient.

It would seem that my audience agrees with my personal assessment, as I turn and take in the look of wonder on her face.

"I didn't feel a single drop of water. How did you do that?" She chimes inquiringly, her voice replete with more awe than there is water in the river surrounding us.

"How does a cheetah achieve speeds in upwards of 70 mph? – It just does." I sneer, putting a dead end to that conversation as I prepare to achieve even greater speeds. Unsure of her ability to hold on for the duration, I reposition her in front of me.

The new position gives the illusion of intimacy and her face flushes a deep crimson. Due to my unwavering influence, she is quite unable to tear her eyes away from mine, though I can tell she would very much like to. I hold her unwilling gaze for several seconds more, watching her turn an ever deeper shade of scarlet.

I inhale the savory scent flowing so closely to the surface of her skin, thriving on her growing discomfort. I place both hands just under her buttocks, cupping each cheek securely in my palms – pressing her obscenely into me. Her mouth falls open, but not one sound is produced.

"Stop gawking at me and tuck your head into my chest." I command with a vile smirk. She huffs quietly but does as I bid her.

Leaving one hand on her backside, I apply the other to the back of her head and take off into the battalion of trees. Instinctively, she squeezes me tighter between her thighs and holds my shirt in a vice grip at my lower back.

Thrilling at her terror, I weave recklessly in and out of the towering trees as she clings to me even tighter. Her heart is beating like a humming bird's wings and I'm enjoying imagining the abject horror she must be in. But, inexplicably, just under the sound of the wind howling as it whips around us, I could swear I hear her giggle.

Nearing her house I reduce speed as I leap effortlessly into her still open window. Her head springs up with the unpredictability of a child's jack-in-the-box, and she is smiling _cheerfully_ at me.

"That was fun!" She announces annoyingly brightly. Without warning I remove my arms from her body, dropping her unceremoniously on her arse.

"Okay…_that_ wasn't." She groans, rubbing her sore tailbone as she gets to her feet. Looking around she quickly takes notice of her surroundings. "You know where I live?" She mumbles quietly, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I know many things." I confirm, bridging the short distance between us. "I know you require a fresh change of clothes." I murmur as I rip the dress from her body in one swift movement. She blinks several times in succession, her mind obviously struggling to process what has just happened.

She stands before me clad in a simple pale peach bra and panty set, almost every dip and curve of her on display. I smirk knowingly, having _well_ acquainted myself with the dips and curves still hidden from view.

Dropping to her knees she wraps her arms around herself and wails loudly. In her distress she fails miserably to cover herself thoroughly. I begin rummaging through draws and pull out a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt and a hoodie.

"You missed a spot." I say flatly, tossing the garments into her naked lap.

"You're a monster." She whispers feebly, her voice surprisingly steady for all that she is shaking. Taking the items of clothing in hand, she dresses herself but refuses to lift her eyes from the floor – even after she is fully clothed.

"Look at me." I croon in the smooth as velvet voice I reserve for sounding especially seductive. Her grief stricken eyes meet my elated ones as I flash her a villainous smile. "You have _no_ idea. But you soon will." Without breaking eye contact I lower my stance in front of her. "Come."

Obediently she steps forward and places her hands behind my neck. She then hoists herself up, wrapping her legs firmly around my waist. I resume the earlier placement of my hands on her head and bottom and walk us slowly toward the window.

Cradling her closely against me I take a seat on the ledge, still facing the interior. Leaning backwards, I allow myself to fall. Not one to disappoint, she screams the entire way down. At the last possible moment I right myself, sprinting as I set foot on solid ground.

Her head is tucked into my chest where I can hear her sniffling intermittently. Factoring in the velocity of the wind, I laugh at a volume compatible with her inferior hearing – loving how very easy it is to frighten her. I couldn't have selected a more suitable plaything; it's as though she were handcrafted specifically for me.

We're coming upon our destination and I halt on the banks of the Sol Duc River; the side that is closest to the falls. I detach her from me and set her on the soil. "_Don't_ move." I order her dangerously, before bounding to the opposite side of the river. It is the abysmally abhorrent side of the river where my family and the majority of the civilization of Forks resides. The girl, of course, is the minority of one – the only soul who shares the isolation of the falls side with me.

Before my feet have a chance to touch the earth, I am inundated with a cacophony of voices in midair. My hands immediately fly to my head in a fruitless attempt to block the barrage. Pushing off as soon as I make contact with the ground, I propel myself to the falls side of the river once again. Panting acutely, I release my head and sink to the grass; remaining silent for many moments as I give myself adequate time to recover.

I can feel her eyes on me, studying my peculiar behavior, but she doesn't utter a word. Confident that I have recovered enough to make a second attempt, I stare straight ahead at the opposing bank. "Come." I snarl rigidly.

She walks over to where I am seated on the ground, takes hold of my shoulders, and lowers herself onto me – effectively straddling me. I've never had a woman sit on me thusly, and feeling her _there_ is no small shock to my system.

Something is stirring, and unlike before, it isn't stemming from the prospect of heightening her fear or bringing her pain. She shifts against me suddenly, presumably to make herself more comfortable. I hiss long and loud, resisting the urge to hold her impossibly closer as I furiously grind my hips.

"Up." I growl so ferociously she startles, falling backwards on the grass between my spread legs. Her knees are likewise spread, bent with a corresponding foot nestled on either side of me. Her mouth is open slightly and her chest is heaving from her recent fright.

I find the view appallingly appealing and scramble to my feet leaving her spread out on the ground. Unnerved by the unexpected onslaught of strange sensations, I glare at her prostrate form. Turning my back abruptly, I sink onto my haunches.

"Get. on." I manage to slip out around my clenched teeth. I wait impatiently as she climbs onto my back. Feeling her situate herself thereupon, I launch us to the other side of the river. I hear – or rather, don't hear – the difference immediately.

As I come to land on the same soil that only moments ago overwhelmed me, I am struck by the anomalous absence of sound. It is a sound that I am wholly unaccustomed to, so far from my sanctuary walls.

With confirmation of my experiment's success, I ghost across the river once more and head in the direction of the girl's home. I had intended on venturing into town for additional analysis (and then back to the cave to toy with her further), however, after that inconceivable incident, I'm finding it difficult to tolerate the sight of her.

The very idea that this puny human girl should have such an effect on me is enough to boil the icy venom in my veins. Yes, it is prudent to her survival that she _not_ remain with me for the time being.

Upon arrival I slip us through her window and deposit her inside. Our eyes meet briefly and the look with which she holds me under is indecipherable. Unbidden, the remembrance of our moment of "splendor in the grass" comes upon me. Perhaps there exists _some_ sexual need or desire to speak of, after all.

For her sake, she had better hope not!

This partial admission of carnal weakness, coupled with the possibility that it could very well afford her some form of power over me, renders me so thoroughly livid; I give her my back and head hastily toward my awaiting exit.

"I'll return for you at midnight. Be. ready." I spit viciously, before vaulting to the ground below and vanishing away under the cover of trees and a near-constant cover of clouds.


End file.
